I Just Can't Tell You
by xasiannoodlesx
Summary: Germany is falling for Italy, but he just can't find a way to tell him. Italy happens to really like Germany. Will they ever tell each other?  Very short chapters! It has sections of self-reflectiveness that may be slightly OOC .
1. Chapter 1

I've never felt this way about anyone ever before, and that's scaring me. Yes, someone has managed to scare Ludwig. I have had moments of fear like everyone else when things were falling apart. Times of anger, sadness and pain when everything seemed lost until I stood back up and fought. Yet this is different. I know what happy feels like. This doesn't feel like happy, but it's a positive feeling.

It's knowing when I get home he's cooked a delicious meal of pasta, wurst, and sometimes even potatoes even though he doesn't particularly like them. It's the feel of his lips on my cheek when he stands on that stupid little stepstool, and the soft skin of his cheek as I return the greeting so he doesn't start crying. The warmth that spreads in my cheeks and his. It's waking up in the middle of the night from a nightmare to realize he's in my bed, yet again, but not minding. I don't know what this is, but it seems a lot like…

Nein, it couldn't be love. How could I ever falls for a pasta-loving, wimpy, brainless idiot? Even as I question this, I know. It's because his skin is always tan and his hair is that beautiful brown. His eyes are always shining when he makes pasta and his smiles make me smile too, even though I hide it. He is the most amazing person I know, and I can't help this feeling of…

Ja, ja. If I don't tell him, he'll never have to know.


	2. Chapter 2

I was in love once, a long time ago when I still wore a white apron over that puffy green dress. The one I loved left and never returned, and it was hard to move on even though I was just a child. Now Ludwig is in my life and I never thought I'd stop being scared of the tall German man with the loud voice and scary eyes. He was terrifying towering over me, barking commands. Now something has changed, but I don't think he knows it.

The way I feel about him has changed.

I'm not afraid to look him in the eye anymore, even though he is a lot taller. When he wakes up at that ridiculously early time in the morning, sometimes I get up long enough to make us both breakfast before crawling back to bed. Even though I like making pasta, I find myself making things he likes too, which makes him smile. When Ludwig smiles the world lights up. I've actually been trying to work harder in training because I like the way he says "sehr gut" when I manage to finish all of my push-ups. He was the stoniest person I had ever met in my life, and I didn't think he had the ability to be cheerful. He does, though, when the day is done all his work is complete. He'll protect and support me no matter what happens…

There's no way I love him. Me, love an intimidating, bossy man with no sense of fun? There's no way that's possible. However, it is. It's because he has the most captivating eyes that his blonde hair falls over when he wakes up in the morning that see deeper than what is on the surface. It's because he tolerates my pasta and tomato obsession to the point he even helps me clean up the mess I tend to make of his kitchen. But there's no way to tell him that. Even though I think I love him, there's no way he could ever love a person like me.

I'll never tell him. He'll never, ever know.


	3. Chapter 3

Italy sat staring out the window on his tomato-print couch, watching raindrops slide down the glass. A bolt of lightning flashed as thunder started booming, scaring him slightly. He didn't like dark and cold days like this, though he knew the plants needed the rain after such a long drought. Grabbing the green blanket off the armrest of the, Italy wondered when the rain would stop. He knew that trying to sleep would be futile, as he would just wake up again. It would have been much nicer of a Sunday if it were warm and sunny.

The phone started ringing, a cheerful sound compared to the storm's rage. Italy danced over to the old telephone and picked it up, carefully so the cord wouldn't tangle like it did almost every time.

"Guten tag, Italy."

"Oh, hello Germany! How are you? What's wrong, why are you calling me ve ?

"Nein, nothing is wrong, Italy. I was just wondering if…" the German's voice faltered, making Italy worry.

"Germany, are you alright? Are you sick?" Italy replied anxiously.

Germany was trying to get a grip on himself, debating in his head if he should hang up the phone.

"I was just vondering if you vould like to… go out for lunch with me?" Gah, he'd said it. Germany was wondering if he was going to have a heart attack. Apparently talking on the telephone could defeat the tall, often intimidating blonde man.

"Ve~ of course Germany! Where should we meet?" the Italian replied, shocked but completely delighted.

"Vhy don't I pick you up in my car around 12:30…?

"Okay, I'll see you then!" Italy cut him off, as usual.

"Alvight." Replied Germany as Italy hung up on him. Rude as always, but pretty cute.

Germany sat at his desk staring down at his calendar, the jet-black phone still in his hand. His blonde hair fell over his eyes as he read over all the important things he had to get done by next week, and how he, Germany the practical, had just thrown away at least two precious hours.

_I can't believe I just called up Italy on a whim and asked him to lunch with me. Vhat the hell was I thinking? Oh gott, now I don't want to go. It's too rude to call him up and cancel though, he sounded pretty excited. Vait why does that matter? I can call him up and cancel. Nein, I don't want to disappoint him. Okay, I'll go on this date with him and if it doesn't work out then…. Did I just… DATE? Vait, this isn't a date. Friends get together all the time for lunch. This is perfectly normal and is not a date. I sort of want it to be a date though… It's not a date. It's not. _

Italy stood against the wall where the telephone was based, literally jumping up and down in happiness. Then he decided there were more important things to do, like putting some clothes on and getting ready to go.

_Yeah, I'm going to lunch with Germany! I wonder where he's taking us, he never really said…_

_Hang on a moment. Why is he picking me up like it's a… date? Does Germany like me or something? Perhaps this isn't a date and I'm overthinking everything. Nah, it's not. It's just two friends eating lunch together. Oh I hope there's pasta! Pasta pasta pasta pasta…. What am I going to wear? It would be silly to wear my uniform for a da… lunch. I'll just wear some jeans and a fashionable t-shirt… why I am thinking about what I'm going to wear? Whatever. I can't wait!_

**AN: I'm probably doing this wrong, because I've been trying to figure out how to add ANs ever since I started posting stories. Is it customary to add notes at the bottom in bold, without any extra lines or anything? Let me know if you'd like. **

**So yeah, this story just got really fluffy on me; don't know where that came from. Anyways, thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

Italy had been sitting on the couch playing with his cat when Germany knocked on the door at exactly 12:30. Considering Italy had taken a siesta once lethargic, puffy clouds had replaced the stormy grey ones, it was surprising Italy was ready at all. Though he wasn't sure why, Italy was holding his breath as he unlocked his door and opened it.

_I hope I look okay and I don't talk too much like Romano says I do. Romano says no one will ever love me if I'm weak and I talk too much- I have to pick one or the other. Well, it doesn't matter if Germany loves me, I guess. It would be nice if he doesn't make me do push-ups today though… veh~_

Germany had been standing at Italy's front door for a while before he finally decided to knock, and was seriously considering turning around and leaving. He wasn't exactly certain why. However, he was glad he hadn't left when Italy opened the door with a big smile on his face.

_Italy looks so happy, as usual. Maybe a bit too cheerful for just going out to lunch but… vait, vhy is he vearing such nice clothes? I never realized he actually had any muscle vhatsoever, vhere is this in training? Those jeans look good on him… vait, VHAT?_

"Hey, Germany! I'm so glad to see you!" exclaimed Italy.

"Hello. Are you ready to go?" asked Germany in a somewhat rougher voice than usual.

"I'm a-ready! Veh!" declared Italy, as the pair walked to the black car parked in Italy's gravel driveway.

The drive to the restaurant was silent, though Italy made a brave attempt at starting a conversation. Germany gave short, terse replies, making Italy wonder if something serious was going on. A serious lunch with Germany was probably not going to be very much fun at all.

_Vhat the hell is vrong vith me today? If I'm not careful he'll start piecing things together… though I doubt he'd actually figure anything out… Okay. He's not going to ever know I like him, because it's not vorth the trouble. And there's no vay he likes me vhen he is alvays flirting with girls left, right and center. _

The café they ended up at was mid-range and one of those places that served practically everything under the sun. Thankfully, that included pasta, which Italy was delighted about. Germany ordered potato-something-or-another when the waiter came. Italy settled on some ravioli and sat back into his chair, pleased with his choice.

Germany managed to start the conversation, something quite unusual but appreciated by his friend. Though neither could remember exactly what they talked about, they both found out amusing things about each other's crazy brothers, grandfathers, and hometowns. They were both shocked in how quickly the meal was over- it felt like no time at all.

"I'll pay for it," said Germany.

"Veh… but then, wasn't this a date?" asked Italy in a light, teasing tone.

"Vell… Um… I…" Germany couldn't form a coherent sentence to save his life.

"Oh, I see! You'll pay for it this time, and I'll pay for it next time?"

"There'll be a next time?" asked Germany, relatively confused.

"Of course!"

The car ride back from the café was significantly less uncomfortable than the ride there. Too soon, Germany had pulled into Italy's driveway. Italy thanked him for the meal and was just starting to close the car door when Germany looked down and saw a brown wallet on the passenger seat.

"Vait! Italy your vallet is still here!"

"Oh, good! Thanks, Germany!"

"Not a…"

Whatever Germany was trying to say was cut off by the Italy bending over and kissing him softly.

**AN: Hello! I finally finished this! Sorry it took so long :/**


	5. Chapter 5

_The whole world is dark, with not a single star in the sky. I feel them coming up behind me and start turning to run away. There is nowhere to run. Fratello is gone. They have surrounded me and even as I pull a white flag out of my pocket, I know it is no use. I frantically wave it anyways, crying for Germany, Fratello, anyone, only for a gun to be pointed directly at my face…_

"Italia! Italy! Vake up!"

Italy felt himself being shaken and snapped his eyes open, only to have them flood with tears. Germany was sitting on the side of the bed, his piercing blue eyes filled with concern. It wasn't unusual for either of them to suffer nightmares, but normally Italy's siesta was a peaceful slumber. The brunette sat up and started wiping his tears away. Germany pulled Italy to his chest and held him gently as the smaller man completely broken down in wept, images from a not so distant past refusing to leave his mind.

_And I try to be there for him too when he's exhausted after a long day. I make wurst and tell him lots of stories eventually he's happier. I've learned that sometimes it's just better to listen, and when I listen, what Germany says actually makes sense. _

_Italy's POV:_

_The gun is gone; it was never there. Germany is here. It's okay, because Germany is here so I'm safe. Veh, now I wish I could stop crying. It was just a dream… but I am glad Germany is here anyways. It's okay now, because he's here. _

_I'm really lucky to have him. Whether I've fallen down from getting my shoelaces tied together or am running away from an enemy, he is always there to help me. He makes me feel a lot better. I hope I make him feel better too when he's had a rough day. I always try to make wurst and tell funny stories until the ice in his eyes melt away. I never want to see him in pain like how he was not too long ago. I want him to smile more often and not work all the time. I want him to love me the way I love him. _

As Italy's sobs started to subside, Germany looked down at the Italian. Italy's curl ticked Germany's shoulder.

_Germany's POV:_

_I hate seeing Italy like this. I hate that his past haunts him and breaks him down so badly. I wish I could protect him from bad dreams so he could be the cheerful person he usually is, all the time. Granted, it annoys me when he's a bit too cheery, but I prefer him like that to scared and crying. I hate it when he cries from something I cannot save him from. I hate it because… I guess I do love him. _

_Now that I think about it, loving Italy is not difficult to do. Even thought it does take a while to get used to the constant scent of pasta. Though he cries a lot, he's surprisingly defensive for those he cares about. Of course there's still things I don't understand about Italy, and I don't know everything about him, but he's the most important person in the world to me. _

Eventually, Italy looked up from his lover's chest and realized Germany's shirt was completely soaked in tears. It didn't matter to Germany, and he locked his blue eyes with Italy's chocolate brown ones. Even though he Italy had been crying, his eyes were warm and beautiful. Both pairs closed as Germany kissed his beautiful Italy, a soft kiss soon turning into a passionate one. The pair was kneeling on the bed, bodies pressed together in the sudden heat of what was initially a comforting kiss. They broke apart as Italy laid back and Germany pressed himself on top of his lover.

"I love you," whispered Germany, before leaning down to kiss Italy again.

Italy only broke the kiss long enough to whisper back, "Ti amo".

**AN: Finally! I had such a hard time writing this for some reason. Anyways, thanks for reading, hope you liked it even though Germany sees kinda out of character .**


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